


I'll Come Back To You

by TheDarkSideofEnergon



Series: After the War [2]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers: Prime
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Developing Relationship, First Kiss, I'm Sorry, M/M, Reunions, Self-Reflection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-21
Updated: 2019-05-21
Packaged: 2020-03-08 22:54:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18904333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheDarkSideofEnergon/pseuds/TheDarkSideofEnergon
Summary: They’d ripped his conjunx away from him. That was not something that would ever be forgiven, even if everyone directly involved was dead now. Even when he joined the winning team. Even when he helped them fight off a Unicron-posessed Megatron. Even when Prime took a swan dive into the Well to restore their planet. He’d never forgive any of them.Knock Out reflects on his relationship with only mech he's ever loved, and what the war did to them.





	I'll Come Back To You

**Author's Note:**

> Unedited flash-fiction once again, unbeta'ed. I love these two too much. Companion/interlude to "I'll Be Here (Waiting For You)," but you most certainly don't have to have read that one to understand this one.

He’d cried himself to sleep (to use a term from the squishies) nearly every dark-cycle for almost half a vorn now. Oh, he’d gotten his revenge on CYLAS a hundred times over, and knowing that Arachnid was trapped on one of the moons, probably starving to death did a lot to ease his processor at night, but they’d ripped his conjunx away from him. That was not something that would ever be forgiven, even if everyone directly involved was dead now.

 

Even when he joined the winning team.

 

Even when he helped them fight off a Unicron-posessed Megatron.

 

Even when Prime took a swan dive into the Well to restore their planet.

 

He’d never forgive any of them. This was something that nobody could come back from.

 

So when Bumblebee and Ultra Magnus told him he could stop with the restoration efforts, he’d transformed and sped off to go snap up that tiny little shop he’d been forced to help build (and the scratches he’d endured as a result... Dear _Primus_ they’d taken far too long to buff out. Even nearly a Earth year later and he was still struggling to buff himself). When they’d come to check on him next, he was sticking a sign outside his brand-new body shop that said KNOCK OUT’S TRANSFORMATIONS.

 

Frag it, if Optimus could say it as he sacrificed himself, Knock Out could fragging well make his shop a pun. The others had just rolled their optics.

 

Breakdown would have laughed when he saw it. So it stayed.

 

Really, they should be glad Knock Out didn’t spit in their paint as he fixed them all up with post-war remodels. Of course, nobody ever said the Autobots had a sense of humor.

 

Breakdown had. Sort of. Knock Out admitted freely to not understanding most of his jokes, or rolling his optics at others, but really, when you're bonded to a master of puns, there's not much else you can do. The human horror films hadn't done any good in that department either, but at least they'd been laughing together then.

 

But here he was. Alone. Sitting at the counter, buffing out his claws and waiting for his next customer. Bots were pouring back into Cybertron, and more and more were looking to get back to their pre-war looks and sense of style. Knock Out was happy to provide it.

* * *

 

He still remembered when they'd met. It was at an after-party for a race that Knock Out had been in. Oh, he remembered that evening in completely uncorrupted memory, how his green (green!) paint had caught the light in all the right ways, how the party had gone well through the dark cycle and into the beginnings of the light one, how the washracks had broken after some rather adventurous mechs had abused them, and how the construction bot had gotten called in to fix them. He might have been a little on the large side, but he was still able to do the rather delicate work that the pipes needed.

 

"So you're a construction bot? Thought you were all big bruiser types." Knock Out was still more than a little overcharged from the high-grade.

 

"So you're a racer? Thought you were all too fast for the rest of us." The blue mech had shot right back.

 

Knock Out grinned. "Oh, we're fast. Sounds like you have... personal experience." He leaned over from where he was perched on a stool, watching the other mech work, propping his helm up on a servo, leaning in just that way that had most mechs tumbling helm-over-pedes for him.

 

But the blue mech in front of him was focused on the task in front of him, and only took a passing glance at the green mech behind him. "Not at all. I just call it how I see it. Most of you don't have any time for those of us who don't go as fast."

 

"Bet you that we're not all the same." Knock Out pouted as he sat up straight again as the blue mech finished up with his repairs.

 

Then the blue mech in front of him laughed. And Knock Out was gone. He wanted to hear that laugh for every minute of his functioning.

 

"Cute when you pout. Cheer up though. I'm sure a better mech than I will be happy to take that bet."

 

Knock Out watched him leave. "Not sure I want a better mech." He whispered to himself.

 

It had been four vorns before they saw each other again. Knock Out had forced himself to move on from that short encounter with the blue mech that he realized three cycles later that he'd never gotten a name from. But really, it was a tiny planet, and Knock Out moved around a lot, and not just in the racer circles. So while it wasn't expected, it wasn't impossible for them to run into each other again. The next time they saw each other, it was at a bar there in Iacon, a worker's bar, where Knock Out wouldn't normally be except for the fact that he wanted stronger high-grade than you could get at a fancy party.

 

"Another." Knock Out shoved the cube back to the bartender, who just gave him a look to make sure he wasn't too overcharged before handing him a fresh one. Knock Out threw that one back too, relishing the burn as it flowed down his intake. Then someone slid in next to him.

 

"Maybe this isn't how bar interactions are supposed to go, but you should go home, mech. Not sit here drowning whatever it is in high-grade."

 

Knock Out shrugged. "I'm good. Racer. Burning it faster than I can drink it, anyways."

 

"Doesn't look like it."

 

Knock Out turned to give the mech a piece of his mind, before he froze.

 

"It's you." He said, dumbfounded. Really, what were the odds that the mech he'd spent a solid decacycle pining over before trying to move on would sit next to him in a bar?

 

The blue mech next to him just squinted. "Uh... yes? It's me?"

 

"From the party... four vorns ago? You fixed the washracks. We talked."

 

The blue mech squinted at him, clearly digging through old memory files, before he laughed. Oh, how Knock Out had missed that. "If I recall, I worked and you flirted."

 

"Same thing?" Knock Out supplied, weakly.

 

"Hardly." The blue mech stood up. "I never got your name, though."

 

"Me either. Knock Out."

 

"Breakdown. Good to meet you finally." He turned to leave, and Knock Out reached out, grabbing the edge of his arm. Breakdown turned around, a questioning look on his faceplate.

 

"I... uh..." Slag. Words. "Want to grab a drink?"

 

Breakdown grinned. "Think you've had one too many already, Knock Out. But I'll walk you back to your place, if you want?"

 

Well, it was a start. "Alright."

 

With the possibility of a date removed from the table ~~for the moment,~~ Knock Out relaxed a bit, as did Breakdown, it seemed. The two chatted as they walked back to the hotel Knock Out was staying at, a good two kilometers from the bar. The light had begun to slip away when they finally got there, and Knock Out found himself wishing it was a lot further. Or that Breakdown's place was closer. Either would work. But he said nothing, and just enjoyed the moment for what it was. Nobody noticed the odd pairing, something that surprised Knock Out. He would figure that it would be a lot stranger for a racer and a construction bot to be together. That, he did mention.

 

Breakdown just nodded and looked around at the buildings rising above them. "That's why I like it here. You can be more than just fast."

 

Knock Out paused. That... wasn't the stupidest thing he'd ever heard. "That actually sounds nice."

 

"I'm surprised to hear a racer say that."

 

"I bet you we're not all the same." Knock Out grinned slightly as he remembered his over-charged bet four vorns previously.

 

But he'd never expect what happened next. Breakdown leaned down and whispered in Knock Out's audial. "I guess I'll take that bet."

 

If Cybertronians needed to breath, Knock Out was pretty sure his breath would have stopped then. As it was, his engine jumped a little and Breakdown just grinned at him. They continued their walk in silence, but at the end of it, they swapped comm codes and promised to stay in touch. And they did.

 

A few more vorns passed, but these went faster, with regular comm conversations, even when Knock Out was racing on the other side of the planet, and when Breakdown had just gotten off a long shift of work. They'd become friends, which was something that Knock Out... hadn't really ever had before. He liked it, though. But still... his dreams were filled with the blue mech, and not in an entirely platonic way.

 

"So I'm coming back to Iacon next week." Knock Out was fixing his now-red paint, touching it up in spots where it had gotten dinged in the race that day.

 

"Lugnuts?"

 

"Unless you want to go somewhere else."

 

"Like where?"

 

"Your place?" Knock Out suggested, boldly. Never let it be said that he didn't go for what he wanted, and after three vorns of comm chatter, he knew what he wanted. He just didn't know if they wanted the same things.

 

Silence filled the line, and Knock Out mentally kicked himself.

 

"I was just jo-"

 

"I'd like that."

 

"What?" Both mechs asked simultaneously.

 

"You were joking?" "You mean it?" "You first." "No, you."

 

Then they started laughing. Knock Out stopped first.

 

"I'd like that too."

 

"You suggested it."

 

"That I did. I'll be there in ten cycles."

 

"I'll pick you up at your hotel."

 

Ten and a half cycles later, and he was in Breakdown's arms outside his hotel. Knock Out knew he was making the right choice at that moment.

 

"I have something to tell you."

 

"Yeah?" Breakdown pulled away.

 

"I'm leaving the circuit."

 

Breakdown froze, and Knock Out poked him in the helm. "Cybertron to Breakdown?"

 

"You mean it?"

 

"Shockingly, yes. Turned in my resignation last cy-mmpfh" Knock Out was cut off by Breakdown's lips suddenly covering his, filling every sense he cared to use at that moment. He melted into a puddle of mech right there, only supported by Breakdown's arms around him. They broke apart a moment later, and Breakdown's faceplates turned blue.

 

"I... uh, hope that was okay."

 

"More than okay, sweetspark." Knock Out grinned before shuttering his optics and tugging Breakdown back down for another kiss. "Now, should we get off the street before we give some little old femme a spark attack?"

 

It hadn't taken long for them to move in together after that. Knock Out got a job in a local body shop, learning not only cosmetic fixes but also the occasional mild transformation sequence adjustment. Then they'd moved to Praxus for Breakdown's work, and Knock Out had used what he'd learned to open his own shop. They had an apartment on the south side of town, overlooking a crystal park, and it had been _amazing_.

* * *

 

Pulling himself from his memories, Knock Out sighed and looked around his New Iacon-based shop, pausing in his task briefly. The windows were open, letting the soft breeze of the planet’s vents rustle the soft-metal curtains and threaten to disturb the datapads on the counter. The chime above the window tinkled, each metal making a different tone, and there was none of that disgusting Earth dust or dirt to be seen. In other words, it was... technically perfect.

 

Just… too perfect. Knock Out had a vision of a mech almost too big for his own good bursting in, trailing metal shavings after him, laughing, spinning him around as he told him that he’d _just gotten the next construction job that would not only keep them in the apartment, but let them take that vacation to the Rust Sea_ and _he loved him_ and h _ey, maybe we could bond now_ all in one sentence and leaving Knock Out’s processor spinning as he tried to sort out a response and ended up just saying _yes_ and _I love you_  too to all of it because _Primus_ nothing would make him happier.

 

Then, exactly two cycles later, the apartment was gone. Pits, the _city_ was gone. The war had come all at once. And that’s when they’d joined up. Breakdown had joined the Wreckers. Knock Out had gone to medical training. They commed as often as they could, but times were few and far between when they were both available. Knock Out cried once.

 

"I don't think this war is ever going to end. They said two vorns, tops, it was just a little uprising..."

 

"Hey, Knock Out. Listen to me." Breakdown's voice cut through his hysterics. "We'll see each other again. I promise. I'll always come back to you."

 

"Promise?"

 

"Promise."

 

As it turns out, they didn’t see each other for five vorns, and when they got back together… well, it may have been a war, but they weren’t waiting any longer. A single priest was in the unit and while the mech wasn’t exactly thrilled to be bonding two mechs when they might offline tomorrow, stranger things happened in wartime.

 

Then the Council fell. And everything else did too. And they took one look at each other and ran for the safety of the Decepticons. The winning team. Betrayal wasn’t a good look, but they were nothing if not survivors.

 

Never took an insignia though. Knock Out because it would have messed up his paint. Breakdown because...well, while Megatron was tough, a good warrior, Breakdown just went where Knock Out did. Knock Out gave up the circuit for him. For a slow construction bot with a spark bigger than his frame who saw more than just a sexy racer to interface with (though he took every opportunity to remind Knock Out that he was, in fact, just that, but the love that poured out from his spark when he did…). Even when Breakdown was flirting with Arachnid, Knock Out knew that he was his, in the end. Besides, it wasn't like Knock Out hadn't flirted with Starscream on occasion.

 

It was mostly so nobody realized that they were bonded. Nobody ever asked. It was the policy at the time. Kept bonded couples safe from assassination attempts. The downside... everyone expected you to go right back to work when "assistants" were killed. Really, the universe had only done him a favor with giving him CYLAS. At least he'd gotten to hear Breakdown's voice for a little longer that way. But it wasn't the same. It was a fleshie. Not his bonded.

 

He'd never forget that last comm that he got.

 

"I'm being sent out on a mission with Dreadwing and Arachnid. Be back later."

 

"Alright. I've got an upgrade for the buffer. I need help with it."

 

Breakdown laughed over the comm. "See you then."

 

"Breakdown?" Knock Out asked suddenly.

 

"Yeah, sweetspark?"

 

"You remember what you said to me a couple vorns into the war?"

 

He couldn't see Breakdown's face, but Knock Out was sure he was smiling, from his tone of voice, filled with love and a little bit of sappiness.

 

"I'll always come back to you."

 

"Promise?"

 

"Promise."

 

"Go kick some aft."

 

"Will do."

 

That night was the first time Knock Out had cried since that night two vorns in. He rocked back and forth on his berth, tears running down his face as he whispered to himself.

 

"You promised, you slagger. You _promised_."

 

But then time passed. CYLAS came and went on Knock Out's dissection table. Arachnid came and went. Even the war did. And now he was here. And most of the bots that would remember that the two had been bonded were either offlined or still MIA.

 

Ratchet had asked when he stopped by a few years back. And Knock Out had _just_  stopped crying every night, too. Rude.

 

The curtains shuffled a little more, slapping a previously precariously balanced datapad to the floor. Knock Out grumbled as he shoved himself to his pedes to go pick it up. As a result, his back was to the door when it opened.

 

“What’s the damage today? Remodel, repaint, or some other help you need?” Knock Out said automatically as he replaced the datapad on the windowsill.

 

“Need something that tells my conjunx that I’m sorry, back, and hoping he still loves me.”

 

Knock Out made a sound with his vocalizer that sounded an awful lot like a fleshie snort as he turned around.

 

“You and every oth…” He trailed off as he saw the mech who had walked in and as his spark suddenly tried to rip away from his frame. The frame in front of him wasn’t familiar, certainly. But the amber optics were the same, and the part of his spark that belonged to the one in front of him and the part of that spark that still hid in his _knew_.

 

“Breakdown?” Knock Out whispered, not trusting his voice with the sudden static that cropped up in it.

 

“Where do I start?” Breakdown grinned ruefully, rubbing the back of his helm.

 

“Maybe with why you’re not in the Allspark?” Knock Out still hung back, not wanting to close the distance in the event that this was just a really, really good dream. He’d pinch himself if it wouldn’t mean fixing his paint. Actually, scrap that. He wouldn’t pinch himself because if this was dream, he never wanted to wake up from recharge. He’d happily go into the Allspark like this.

 

“It’s pretty slagging nice, I won’t lie. I only accepted it because...well, it was better than wandering. But as soon as Prime stuck us all back in the Well, and as soon as new sparks started crawling out, I fought my way to the front of the line. Primus only tried to stop me once.”

 

“Wait, _Primus_?”

 

“Bit of a shock to me too, you know, didn’t think he was actually real. But he’s actually pretty nice. Only had to show him my memories of you and...well, he laughed and I just felt… peaceful after that. The next thing I know, I’m staggering out of the Well in a new frame and being welcomed to Cybertron. Think I scared them with not being a new spark. The klik they let me go, I looked for the nearest enforcer station and found out where you were. That was maybe five cycles ago… Knock Out?” Breakdown trailed off as Knock Out… well, broke down, having spent the past several kliks slowly losing his composure before flinging himself at Breakdown’s chassis and clinging to him.

 

“If you ever leave me to buff myself again, I swear to Primus I will hunt you down and make sure your colors never match again. Speaking of which, your paint is _awful_.”

 

Breakdown just laughed (a different laugh, but Knock Out loved it no less), spinning Knock Out around before kissing him for a long moment before laughing into his audial again.

 

“Only you would notice or threaten that." Breakdown paused in his laughing, a thought occurring to him. "How long?"

 

"Half a vorn."

 

Breakdown dropped another kiss to Knock Out's helm. "I told you I'd always come back, didn't I?"

 

"You were gone."

 

"Didn't stop me before." Breakdown pulled back from Knock Out, who whined with the sudden removal of warmth, as much as it scratched his paint. "And I'm sorry I broke my promise. But now... we never did get around to the Rust Sea. How about it?”


End file.
